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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731317">Free and Wild</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerdise_Iadeser/pseuds/Aerdise_Iadeser'>Aerdise_Iadeser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Reign (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ghosts, Other, Sexy Times, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:08:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerdise_Iadeser/pseuds/Aerdise_Iadeser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary comes to Bash's dreams often, even in the country house with Kenna asleep beside him. Takes place between season 1 and season 2. Bash and Kenna's relationship is complicated. Mature themes and sexy times.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kenna/Sebastian "Bash" de Poitiers, Sebastian "Bash" de Poitiers/Mary Stuart, Sebastian "Bash" de Poitiers/Mary Stuart/Francis de Valois</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Free and Wild</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She came to Bash often, in his dreams, both waking and asleep. </p><p>Even now, as his mind wandered; his body cooped up in the country house with Kenna asleep beside him. His fingers absentmindedly twirling the strands of her coppery hair, his memory reached out for her—</p><p>—Mary, in one of her red gowns. Her hair tied back in a rope of breads, the rarest of red flowers entangled at her hairline, his favorite crown to see her wear. Or one of her black gowns, the lace detailing exposing her shoulders, the light dusting of freckles at the back of her neck, and her raven-colored hair curled so carefully around her face. </p><p>Bash rubbed his eyes with his freehand. Kenna stirred but he shushed her, soothingly. </p><p>If he focused hard enough, he could conjure Mary’s form before him. He imagined her, nightgowned, standing beside the window while the mists rolled in across the lawn at daybreak, the soft yellow of sunrise setting her specter aflame with life and youth. He imagined her giggling by the castle, tipsy from a flagon of wine that he held out to her. Or the bend of her leg as she expertly climbed one of the orchard trees in the garden. He remembered hovering discreetly near her as she climbed, staying close just in case she may need him—had she called out, had she breathlessly spoken his name, or had she fallen back he would have been there to catch her, to answer his call, or to serve any beckoning need that she may have. </p><p>He remembered her when she was free and wild. </p><p>His longing for her was an ever-present echo, it burned into his body, as though her ghost was beating against his bones. His heart screamed: Mary, Mary… Mary!</p><p>Kenna rolled toward him. She was nude, as she often was when sleeping. He could feel her breasts against his arm. “Why are you awake?” Her voice was groggy, still heavy with sleep. “God, it’s not even morning yet.”</p><p>Bash smiled, despite his troubled mind. “The sun is up.”</p><p>Kenna burrowed against him, hiding her face in his armpit. “Too early,” she whined. </p><p>Bash stroked her back. He tried to pull himself out of his daydreaming. He did love his wife. Kenna was a forest fire, she engulfed everything that she touched and there was so much in his body that loved that. There had been times, in their short marriage, when they fought—she was so much younger than him and her silly childishness wore away at time from time to time, but here, in their bed chamber, she was every bit a woman to match him as a man. </p><p>Kenna squirmed again, she pulled her leg up over his for warmth and felt his hardness. Giggling and lifting her head up to face him. “Well, someone is definitely awake.”</p><p>He laughed, despite himself. The running of his thoughts always linked to the needs of his body. </p><p>She stroked his cheek, “What were you dreaming about tonight, Husband?” Bash wouldn’t tell her, but she somehow always knew. “Ah,” she spoke knowingly. She let her fingers wander across his cheek again. “A love from a past life.”</p><p>Mary’s name was never spoken between the two of them like this. Just as Henry’s was not. </p><p>Kenna sat up on the bed. She let the sheet fall, exposing her breasts and the curve of her hip. Her hand reached out to him and messaged the taught skin of his chest. His muscles twitched under her touch. </p><p>“Passed loves are always the hardest to get over.” Her hand drifted down further and she smiled when she took him in her hand, hearing him groan in surprise. </p><p>Bash pulled the sheet completely aside, exposing both of them to the glow of the day. He was hard and aching under her tough. “Your touch is a balm to the past, Wife.”</p><p>Her hair had been braided the night before but sleep has tousled it, the front pieces fell across her cheeks as she leaned down over him, taking his long shaft into her mouth.</p><p>Bash cried out. </p><p>“Easy, Husband!” She breathed between licks. </p><p>Bash’s eyes widened and his lips clamped shut. It was always in these moments of strained pleasure, especially now, when she had him in her mouth, that he felt the fear of calling out the pagan gods of his mother’s people. The same gods he had prayed to as a child. Kenna knew so little of his past, and he had not intention of changing that. </p><p>His entire body tensed and Kenna released him. “No—” he breathed when she pulled away. “—don’t stop…” she silenced him with a quick slap on his chest. The head of his penis was red and twitching, searching out further touch. </p><p>“I have needs too, Husband!” He hissed when she drew a finger up his shaft, relieving him with the lightest of feathery touches. “I don’t know what you were dreaming about last night, but it appears you won’t last long enough to cater to me.”</p><p>“Later,” he gasped. “I promise you will get your fill of satisfaction as soon as I am seen to.”</p><p>She raised her eyebrows, delighted with him in this state but still slightly annoyed to be the one giving and not receiving. “Will you put your mouth here?” She guided his hand to the opening of her sex, his fingertips expertly finding the white bulb of her pleasure. </p><p>“My mouth shall be here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Wife! Now, get on top of me. Your touch has me close to bursting.”</p><p>Kenna giggled. Obliging him, she straddled him. Moving him where she wanted him and lowering herself, slowly. </p><p>Bash’s head feel back against the pillow and his hands held on tightly to her hips. She didn’t need much guiding. They had started a rhythm on their first night together and it continued now. She knew it drove him crazy when she leaned back, keeping her weight balanced with her hands behind her on the bed she moved her hips in quick circular movements. He bucked up into her. </p><p>Bash felt the names of those same pagan gods boil up from his thought. “I’m not going to last,” he warned her. </p><p>“So soon, Husband?” She teased, quickening her pace. “I’d expect a young lad spilling himself for the first time with a stable maid could last longer.”</p><p>Bash spoke through gritted teeth, “I’ll remember that, Wife, when I have you writhing under me later.”</p><p>Kenna pulled herself forward until she was face to face with him, her hips still stringing him along to climax. “Pretend I’m that stable maid,” she told him, “what color is my hair?”</p><p>“Black,” he moaned. “Your hair is black.”</p><p>“Yes,” she told him, embellishing the story along. She had slowed her movements slightly to keep him with her in the moment. “Touch my black hair.”</p><p>He did as she asked, pulling the braid hard in his fist until her neck tilted up, exposing her neck to him. </p><p>“Are you ready to spill your seed, Husband?”</p><p>He was in agony to do so, but he liked her game. “I thought I was the young lad?”</p><p>“Of course,” she affirmed. Her hips were still bobbing up and down, his fingers were leaving red indents on her skin. “My young, sweet, lad,” she cooed. </p><p>“And you,” he groaned. “My stable maid, wild and free…” His eyes rolled back in his head. “Now, I can’t stop it, now—”</p><p>She moved off of him, replacing her movements with her hand while he spilled himself against the skin of her stomach. </p><p>He squirmed and sputtered, nonsense words coming from his mouth.</p><p>“That’s it,” she soothed. Her palm continuing her movements until he was spent. Neither of them was inclined to children just yet. </p><p>It was in those dazzling few seconds before and after completion that he could see Mary again. He felt Kenna, the flesh of her womanhood and the guiding of her body to bring him to completion. But still, behind his eyes he longed for Mary. He knew children would someday come with Kenna, but when his mind wandered to the idea of offspring it was always Mary’s round belly he imagined, or the face of his daughter to be a mirror reflection of her, dark eyed and black haired and wild, like her mother. </p><p>Kenna’s voice brought him back from his daydreaming. “Have you come back to yourself, Husband?” </p><p>“Just now getting back, Wife.”</p><p>“Good!” Kenna fell back against the bed; knees bent and legs spread. “Because it’s my turn.”</p>
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